


i look like everyone you know now

by aphrodite_mine



Category: Newsflesh Trilogy - Mira Grant
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, F/M, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, POV First Person, Sibling Incest, Survival, Zombies, confession in a desperate situation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 00:32:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>The blood wasn’t his, the blood, the red stain was all I could see as the kit blinked in neon, the house echoing the pattern. I could see him, my gun to the back of his head, the house finally settling on green. It was too close. I shuddered, looking at him, and pulled myself closer to him. There. Warm, heartbeat. Shaun.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	i look like everyone you know now

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hc_bingo 2012. Fills the prompts 'confession in a desperate situation' and 'survival scenario'.

Shaun was already sprawled out on his bed when I got out of the shower. He looked peaceful, lying stomach-down on top of his comforter, sprawled there with the towel still wrapped around his waist. It didn't take much thought to drop onto the bed behind him -- I didn't think I would be able to sleep without touching him, reassuring myself that he was here, safe. I could see him again, suddenly, a double image in my vision. I could see him, smile quickly dropping from his face as I pointed. “Don’t move,” I said, “Shaun.” The blood wasn’t his, the blood, the red stain was all I could see as the kit blinked in neon, the house echoing the pattern. I could see him, my gun to the back of his head, the house finally settling on green. It was too close. I shuddered, looking at him, and pulled myself closer to him. There. Warm, heartbeat. Shaun.

\--

My heart thudded as I jerked awake. My breath shook a little, but the visions faded quickly, and my body relaxed. George was here. Pressed against my back, her arm resting on my shoulder, hand held tightly against my chest. Her thumb moved slowly even in sleep. I could feel her breath hitting my shoulder blades, her leg hooked around my own. Her skin was cool and smooth and perfect.

"George," I whispered, not with the intent of waking her, but needing to acknowledge, somehow, that she was here with me. I spoke her name, and I saw her face, that inexplicable need, that panic, that sadness lurking just behind her eyes. Because of me. Because of me being a dumbass Irwin and poking the wrong zombie a little too hard. Because of me being willing to risk myself and her... not.

Her thumb moved and she exhaled purposefully on my back. "Shaun Mason," she said, "unwilling to let a perfectly good silence linger." She adjusted her position, tugging herself a little bit closer with her leg. 

"Sleep well?" I asked, shifting myself, turning over just enough to get a quick glimpse of her eyes. Dark and full and sad.

"Just peachily," she answered, and pressed her face against my shoulder and in the space of a single breath, slid her hand down my body -- oh -- and under the towel still loosely around me. 

I was hard, and the super light touch of her fingertips down my shaft did nothing to change that fact. "George," I whispered again, my voice suddenly low and rumbling. Maybe it was a warning, letting her know (as if she didn't) that this was a line we'd never toed before, something that neither of us had attempted to actually poke, something that we’d never named, letting her know that I wasn't going to keep acknowledging a boundary that we’d tumbled over and broken.

"Don't," George insisted, brushing her palm over my balls, pressing. "Just shut up, Shaun. Shut up for once."

So I did. I generally listen to my sister when she gets that tone, though I'd never heard it quite like this, husky and breathless and against my neck. Heat was rising between us, conjured by her hand taking slow strokes, pausing at the head of my cock to take circles, the brush of her thumb against the tip. 

I couldn't quite catch my breath. "George," I managed to get out, despite my orders.

It seemed to spur her into action; George's breath hitched and she added pressure to her movements, wetting her palm with precum and circling my cock with her fist. Her free hand tangled in my hair, and my heart felt like it would pound out of my chest. She was crying.

"Don't you dare do that again," she said, kissing my back, my shoulder, my neck. I could feel the wetness from her tears, but mostly I could feel her hand -- my sister's hand -- and her body pressed against mine, and her tongue and teeth against my earlobe and-- "Promise me!"

"George," I said, grunting as I came, the hot release hitting my stomach as she finished, her movements slower now, dropping a tentative finger to the head of my cock. I didn't move, despite my breath finally catching up with me, and the stickiness needing to be addressed. She coated her fingertip with my ejaculation and tasted it. My own throat felt raw as I swallowed, freeing my hand to cup her cheek. "George, you know I can't promise that."

She nodded her forehead against my shoulder so I couldn't see her face when she whispered "I know."

\--

Before I had a chance to think about the potential stupidity of what I'd just done (lie: I'd been thinking about it for a long, long time.) Shaun shifted, the bed moving under him, and kissed me on the mouth. I must have made a noise because he pulled back and stared at me for a long moment before crawling over me and stepping to the floor. "Gotta clean up."

For the first time in a long time, I didn't know what to do with myself. I watched Shaun tug at his towel as he retreated for our shared bathroom. I sucked in a long breath and laid back on his bed, carefully avoiding the damp area he'd left behind. “Damnit, Shaun,” I whispered, shoving my hair back. I’m sure I looked terrible, not that Shaun had ever cared about things like that. He’d always been the impulsive one between the two of us. Shouldn’t it have been him, struck by the limitations of his own mortality, seeking me out in the darkness?

I laughed, closing my eyes and rubbing my fingers quickly over the eyelids. _Isn’t that just like you, George_ , Shaun asked in my head, _breaking it down into pieces until the purity of the moment is lost?_

“If you’re going to be technical about it,” I mumbled, shifting again and letting my hand fall to my stomach. 

“Having a good time?” Shaun asked, in the room this time. My eyes flashed open, comfortable in the low light. He’d forgone the towel this time. I sat up, swinging my legs to the floor for balance. He was freshly washed, no trace of blood splattered across his chest. I held out my hands and he stepped into my arms, as he had a thousand times before. I breathed and he kissed the top of my head. He brushed my hair back and lifted my chin with a fist. 

I stared up at him, feeling the heat rumble between us again, and smiled. “The best.”


End file.
